She blinks rapidly, trying to dispel a fresh wave of tears. “How can you say that? Look at what I’ve done to you.”
“You didn’t do this. It was bad luck, or fate, or whatever you want to call it. There’s nothing you could have done to change it.”
“But—”
“Tell me it’s not your fault.”
Her lip wavers, and she tries to look away, but I capture her face in my fingers, holding her hostage.
“Say it.”
She closes her eyes, her voice barely a whisper when she finally speaks.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“Okay, now say it like you mean it.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” she repeats, a little louder this time.
“Better.” I smooth her hair back, and she opens her eyes.
“I should let you get some rest.”
“Stay for a while.” My arms tighten around her. “We can go back to fighting later.”
Her gaze drifts over my face, searching for an explanation, but I don’t have one. I just don’t want her to leave.
In the silence, she studies me, visually mapping the scar through my eyebrow, and the one below my jaw. There’s anunspoken question in her eyes, and I don’t have to wonder if she’s trying to remember if she felt them on Eros’s face.
It’s tempting to tell her right now, but that was never part of the plan. Even if it was, she isn’t ready for it. I’m not sure she ever will be.
I close my eyes and leave her to come to her own conclusion.
Eventually, she relaxes, her breaths growing even until she falls asleep. I try to fight it, but this time it’s a losing battle.
When I wake again, it’s to the feeling of Gabi’s finger tracing over mine. I’m not wearing my rings, so it’s the first time she’s seen the scar left by the lightning strike.
“You branded yourself on me,” I tease her. “It’s almost like…you liked me or something.”
Her lips part as recognition sinks in. “The mood ring?”
I nod, wondering if she feels the raging hard-on pressed against her right now. If she does, she’s not bothered by it.
Her body is completely at ease in my arms—soft, warm, and inviting. It’s been too many days since I’ve felt it, and now that I have her here, I don’t want to let her go.
My gaze drops to her mouth, lingering there for far too long.
Fuck, I want to kiss her.
My brain is quick to supply a thousand different reasons why I shouldn’t, but the demon inside me is incorrigible.
Grazing her face with my fingers, I tip her chin up as I narrow the distance between us. I need to see how she responds to my touch—not as Eros, but as me.
I pause a breath away from her, and her heart beats a frantic rhythm against my chest. When she doesn’t protest, I lean in, and she meets me halfway.
Our lips brush, and a soft sound of pleasure catches in her throat. It feeds the beast in me, severing any last hope of restraint.
I take more from her, deepening the kiss with a growl as I roll her onto her back.
